


Gone Daddy Gone

by Stria (Asia117)



Series: Skam girls appreciation week [7]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Abuse, emotional manipulation and gaslightind and all, so please be safe!!!, william has it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asia117/pseuds/Stria
Summary: It was abuse, there was no denying it.[Or, Noora picks herself back up after William.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> ATTN: the emotional abuse descripted here is pretty explicit, please _please please_ take care of yourself if you're triggered by that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Seventh (and last!!!) fic for the [girls week](https://skamwlwnet.tumblr.com/post/157746314299/the-skam-wlw-net-presents-the-skam-girls), for the theme "favourite female character". Noora was kind of an obvious decision, and originally this was supposed to be an Eva/Noora so I'm probably going to add another chapter or another story to this one, because in 4k words it didn't feel natural to have her heal completely and be ready for another relationship.
> 
> Have a good reading!

It was abuse, there was no denying it.

Noora breathes harshly, tries to calm herself down. She has always know there was something that wasn’t… exactly right with her relationship with William. Something rotten inside, something that went bad from the start and made her believe that everything he did was normal, the whole turning arguments around he did to make everything look like it was her fault because she couldn’t understand, and she was too rigid, and she neglected him.

She feels stupid, because honestly? She could have blocked his number when she was able to, in those three months where he texted her without pause, telling her she was beautiful and sexy and desirable and she realises now, she did realise then, that the whole subtext was that she was _fuckable_ and worthy of him, and she remember feeling her skin crawling when he texted her, and her skin still crawls now.

Probably never stopped crawling, but she became numb after a while.

Noora wipes a tear, and briefly wonders if crying herself to sleep can help her in this case. Not that it matters anyway, because at least now she’s not numb anymore, and feeling this kind of crushing desperation is always better than feeling nothing but that morbid attachment she had towards William and that she mistook for love.

Eskild finds her later and brings her to bed with him, spooning her and not saying anything. At least she’s not sleeping on the couch tonight.

 

***

 

Noora feels lost. She used to consider herself a strong person, someone independent who didn’t need other people to feel complete. She learnt the hard way that it wasn’t possible, that she needed friends and she could still be a strong person. And then she had to learn the hardest way that attachment to some people did indeed make her weaker.

It was probably because she insisted on wearing the nurse’s clothes upon discovering that William had problems with his family, and she felt she could understand him because of the train wreck that was her family too; she hoped he could wear the nurse’s clothes right back for her, to help her and be with her, but it didn’t work like that. He just drained her of her life force, sucked everything out of her, and she was left as an empty shell, just a shadow of the person she was before. Of the person she was trying to be before.

At least she didn’t lose her friends, even if she made the stupid (stupid, stupid) decision of taking a semester off school to follow him to London and see if they could live together as a happy family. She was stupid and immature and too ready to dive head first in a new relationship, and she honestly didn’t deserve her friends still being there for her.

And yet, Eskild had been ready to take her back home, and even Linn showed happiness at her being back in Oslo, and the girls. The girls were amazing; they organised a private welcome-back party, and took her out as often as they could. Noora really doesn’t know what she did in her past life to deserve friends like that.

She went to see Chris sing because Chris gave her two front rows tickets, and Sana brought her to the planetarium one afternoon, and Vilde declared they had to cook together because she needed to learn how to make healthy food (Noora saw the concerned glance Vilde threw to her Tupperware, and she chose not to mention it). And then Eva.

Eva doesn’t leave her side even for a second. She comes back from school and comes to Noora, asks for help with studying and with being focused because she can’t, not really, and then leaves when it’s bedtime, not before asking Noora if she wants to go to hers, so they can sleep together, in a real room. Noora misses having a real room, but doesn’t really feel like bugging Eva more than she’s doing right now.

“You’re not bothering me at all,” says Eva one day, without Noora having to day anything, but Eva has always had this skill in reading her like an open book. “I’d be happy if you come to mine at least once.”

Noora just shrugs. “It’s not that,” she says, but it’s at least partly that, and they both know it.

 

***

 

“It’s a barley salad with cherry tomatoes and avocado,” says Vilde, putting a Tupperware in front of her. “Dressed with ginger, lemon and extra-virgin olive oil.”

Noora smiles a bit despite herself. “You’re still on a quest to become vegan, aren’t you?”

Vilde shrugs. “It makes me feel better, and the—thing, the thing disappears when I eat vegan.”

Vilde still has some difficulties speaking about her disorder, and Noora can understand it; it took her years of therapy to get over it and say it out loud. _Anorexia_. The name is not inviting at all.

And Vilde doesn’t have a therapist helping her, she’s stronger than Noora will ever be.

“It’s really good. Thank you, Vilde. You didn’t have to do it.” Noora smiles a bit, and takes another forkful of the salad. Vilde just smiles.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Noora,” she says, and smirks. Noora smiles, and lets herself be hugged.

 

***

 

“I just don’t understand what I lack that you have to look for in other men,” says William. He’s looking at her accusingly, but his voice is calm. Noora swallows and fight the instinct to recoil.

“You’re not lacking anything. It was just a friend, we were speaking about—”

“I don’t care.” His voice is brusque this time, and Noora startles a bit. “Am I not enough for you, Noora? Am I that shit of a boyfriend?”

Noora shakes her head. “Of course not, it’s just that you work and I was thinking of going out with friends, like—”

“And you have to make friends with boys flirting with you, I see.”

It’s not like that, but when William is dead set on something, it’s not easy to make him change his mind, just like when he was dead set on dating her and courted her for months via text. Noora sighs. “He wasn’t flirting, he was just telling me about—”

“Listen, Noora.” William puts his hands on her shoulders, smiling down at her. “I’m a man. I know how men flirt. And I know how out mind works. He was flirting with you and thinking he could get in your pants, and you let him.”

“I didn’t. You know I would never.” Noora tries to ignore the tears threatening to spill. “You know that.”

“Do I, though,” William states, more than asks, and brushes his nose against Noora’s. “I love you very much, and you don’t do much to help my jealousy, baby. Maybe you could help me a bit here?”

They’ve had this discussion a million times since they got to London, and Noora is tired. It’s something that never goes anywhere, because she _doesn’t_ flirt with random men, but William is a jealous person, and doesn’t want her to _talk_ with them, it seems. She closes her eyes, and lets herself be kissed, offering barely a reaction in returns.

When he starts to undress her, she stops him and shakes her head. “We just discussed, I am not in the mood right now.”

William purses his lips and pushes her away; it’s just a little push but it feels like there’s an abyss opening between them with that. “Well then, I see how you put it,” he says, and turns on his heels without any other words.

Noora looks at him getting out of the room and takes her phone to look for the cheapest last minute flight to Oslo.

 

***

 

“How could I have been so stupid?” Noora doesn’t look at Eskild when she says it, keeps her eyes trained on the cutting board, slicing courgette after courgette. She hears him sigh.

“You weren’t stupid. You were just in love, and akin to overlook some things.”

“There were certain things that couldn’t be overlooked,” like the fact that he wasn’t courting her for months, he was just pushing her for a date. A date that he obtained blackmailing her using one of her best friends.

Eskild just comes up behind her and hugs her. “Noora, baby, it’s not your fault.”

Noora doesn’t answer. She was supposed to be a better person than this, someone who doesn’t fall prey to other people, especially someone who doesn’t fall prey to boys, after what her first boyfriend did to her. And yet, here she is. Trying to find the pieces of herself before she can start putting them back together again.

Eskild doesn’t say anything, just stays there, hugging her and swaying lightly, while she cries over the courgettes.

 

***

 

“Wait, I thought—I thought you weren’t moving to London anymore?” Noora is lying in bed, and up to a moment ago she’d been relaxed and basking in the after-sex glow, but now she’s confused.

“I never said that, I just didn’t want to lose you because you’re too important to me,” William says. He’s caressing her hair tenderly, and Noora pushes a bit into the touch. “But what about us?” What about them, finally happy after multiple vicissitudes?

William doesn’t speak for a while, just keeps caressing her hair slowly. They’re happy and they live together, and Noora’s been buying new things for their home, just to make it feel more _theirs_ than ever, because they deserve a place they can call home. She keeps her eyes on the big _Valentina_ print she bought last week. Its placement is amazing.

“I thought you could come with me,” says William in the end, and doesn’t stop caressing her. Noora just frowns.

“Me? I’m not saying I won’t like it, but—what about the school?” He graduated already, she still has two years left.

She can see William shrugging out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t know. You don’t want to come?”

“It’s not that.” Noora struggles a bit. “I just finished my first year, what about the other two?”

“We can find a solution once in London.”

“Okay, but I need to know, it’s my education on the line.” Noora tries not to get frustrated, but she honestly can’t; William seems not to understand.

“Yes, but the rest of your life is on the line too.” William kisses her slowly, and Noora gets lost in his lips for a bit. “Think about it, we’ll be living together in _London_. It will be amazing. You can take a semester off and then we’ll find a school there.”

That seems an awful lot of work, but Noora smiles nonetheless. “It’s a plan,” she says.

 

***

 

“You know what’s worse,” Noora says to Isak. “That the whole time he’s always known, because I thought I had to be the most sincere with him. And he always pretended it wasn’t true.”

Isak looks at her without speaking. They’re not friends, not really, not yet, but he’s a good guy. They’re alone and he saw her, and invited her for a joint in his room. Noora doesn’t usually smoke, but weed doesn’t make her feel sick like alcohol does, just a bit talkative and relaxed. Isak is just silent and getting lost a bit, but he’s not telling her off, and she’s grateful.

“Like, I get that it can be weird, okay? But—”

“It’s not, really. Weird, I mean.” Isak speak with a rough voice, hasn’t used it in a while, but his gaze is serious—even with his eyes at half-mast. “Even is pansexual. He was in love with his ex-girlfriend. It’s not weird.”

Noora swallows nervously. “Then it might be weird for straight boys only, I don’t know. It was weird for him.” She doesn’t want to say his name, not anymore. It just hurts a lot.

Isak bites his lips and doesn’t speak, takes one last drag from the joint and then passes it to her. Noora takes it gratefully.

“It’s just that, I don’t know. I’m not more likely to cheat or what just because I am not straight, and he seemed to think that, so he just. He just cancelled the whole thing from his thoughts, it seems?” She’s babbling a bit, but she doesn’t care. She’s just trying not to cry. “Like, he got really angry if I spoke to guys, but he didn’t care about girls, not really. I’m not saying that it’s good that he was so jealous, but, you know.” She makes a vague gesture. Isak just nods.

“It’s good to have your identity validated,” he says, and he’s probably been spending a lot of time with Eskild lately, or something. His rooms isn’t even in that bad of a state. Maybe a bit dirty, but it smells nice, like an air freshener.

“Yeah, it was like he didn’t actually like all of me, just, you know. Just some parts and then the others, he wanted to cancel them.” How could she have been so stupid not to see it is the real question.

Noora sighs and takes another drag from the joint before passing it to Isak. Weed is nice, she decides. She’s not crying, so it must be.

 

***

 

“I’m sorry,” Noora says. It wasn’t her fault, and she’s still convinced of it, but sometimes in a relationship you have to make compromises, or it won’t work. “I’m sorry about what happened with your brother.”

William doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at her. He just breathes deeply and waits for her to continue.

“He made me drink,” she says. “And alcohol makes me black out and I didn’t know what happened. And you didn’t want to talk about him so I didn’t know what kind of person he was—”

“Don’t put this on me now,” says William. “It’s not my fault.”

Noora breathes deeply. Compromises, she reminds herself. Compromises. “I know it’s not, but it’s not mine either. It’s just his fault because he thought he could use me.”

William nods. He doesn’t seem convinced, but Noora’ll take it. He’s making compromises too, she reminds herself.

“And I didn’t know what kind of person he was, so I didn’t know what could have happened, and I was scared for myself.” Noora bites her lips, nervously.

“Why did you drink?” Asks William. He looks genuinely curious. “You never do, you’re always the sober friend.”

“I—don’t know. He told me ugly things about you and then gave me a wine glasses, and I just… drank it.”

William raises his nostrils. “You believed him and you wanted to forget? Or what?”

“I don’t know.” Noora shrugs. “I just did, and it was horrible.”

William hugs her tightly and sways a bit in his place. “You’re forgiven,” he says. “Just don’t drink again next time, learn from your mistakes.”

It wasn’t Noora’s fault, and she wasn’t to _forgive_ , but she has to make compromises, because that’s what a relationship is all about. She closes her eyes and loses herself in William’s hug.

 

***

 

“I’m sorry if I didn’t realise he was such a toxic person.” Sana is biting her lip and looks really contrite. Noora remembers their conversation, and shakes her head.

“Not your fault,” she says. “I understand it might have seemed normal from the exterior, and just a really immature relationship.”

“Yeah, it seemed like that. Like you were just really in the honeymoon phase and trying to work out stupid differences.”

Noora puts her head on Sana’s shoulder. She’s not angry at her, it’s normal to get things wrong, and it’s not her who was malicious and terrible throughout the whole relationship. “You just tried to make me understand I had to be more flexible, and you weren’t wrong.”

Sana snorts and caresses her hands a bit. “In general, no, I maintain you had to be less judgemental and more flexible. But this doesn’t apply to people who are toxic and abusive, those needs you at your maximum judgemental power, and then they need to get their arse kicked.”

“ _Be kind, always_ ,” recites Noora, and then shakes her head a bit. “I guess that’s not really true.”

“It’s true in the sense of _being polite_ , maybe. But surely not in the sense of _get married and submit yourself to the great power_.”

“I didn’t get married, though.”

Sana actually moves her head to look at her, and she raises her eyebrows. Both of them. “You moved to another city to be with him. I don’t care what it legally was.”

She might have a point indeed. “How could I have been so stupid and let it happen?”

Sana squeezes her hands. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t let it happen. It was like the whole boil the frog story. It started small and then you were used to it and too tired to react. And the fact that you left London and came back to Oslo is already a great accomplishment.”

It didn’t start small though, it started with harassment and him blackmailing her for a date. But Noora doesn’t say that, doesn’t want to listen to what would be Sana’s answer.

 

***

 

“Just because you think something, it doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to think. Grow up, Noora.”

Noora flinches back and tries not to start crying, but the tears are already spilling out from her eyes. William is looking at her seriously, not doing anything. “What the fuck,” she says.

William shrugs and puts a hand on her shoulder. She flinches again, but he doesn’t take it away. “You have all these big ideals, pacifism and nonviolence and antimilitarism. And it’s great, but not everybody thinks like this, and you have to learn how to accept it. The world doesn’t spin because of you.”

Noora doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how they got there. They were speaking about William’s street brawl, and suddenly it’s about her ideals of nonviolence and how wrong they are. “We’re not—” she tries, but doesn’t know how to continue. They weren’t speaking about this, but if she says that, it will surely be her trying to extricate herself from being accused, and they will end it here.

“I swear I think you’re a noble soul, Noora. All that stuff about Syria, I mean. Not everybody cares about that, and it’s amazing. But you have got to understand that Syria without military would be a worse place, and not better off.”

Noora just shakes her head and doesn’t say anything. It’s useless, the other times she’d tried to bring the topic back on track, William had always used it as an excuse to stop the conversation.

“I’m sorry I made you cry, baby, but I love you, I just want what’s best for you, and you have to grow up a bit,” he says tenderly, and his words have something wrong in them, but Noora can’t understand what.

“Okay,” she murmurs, lets herself be hugged. They will have to talk about him smashing a bottle on someone’s head sometime later maybe.

 

***

 

“It’s the patriarchy,” says Jonas. Noora raises both of her eyebrows.

“What about it?”

Jonas passes the joint to her. “The way men are socialised and supposed to act. It’s the patriarchy, and we can all fall prey of what society says.”

They’ve been smoking a bit in Isak’s room, because that’s something Noora does now, smoking with Isak and, sometimes, his friends. She knows Jonas knows what happened, but she didn’t expect him to just… go for it and talk to her. She just shrugs. “It is, and I thought I knew, that’s the point.”

“I thought I knew too, and then I became friends with Elias the Macho Man and almost destroyed my own best friend in the process.” He talks frankly, and he probably only does that because Isak went to the bathroom for a moment; she doesn’t know if he would say the same things in Isak’s face, they seem really private.

“This is still not an excuse, though. I should have known better.” She takes a drag from the joint and then passes it back to Jonas, who sighs.

“At sixteen? I don’t know, Noora, I don’t think so. You’re allowed to make mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes are not your fault.”

“But sometimes they are. And I have to accept that.”

Jonas doesn’t speak, but he’s not convinced, and Noora can read his face fairly well, for someone she only knows because of oblique friendship. She closes her eyes and waits for Isak to come back from the bathroom trip.

When Isak comes back, he hugs her awkwardly. She’s seen him with Even, and he’s a natural creature of affection with him, but with other people he’s still struggling to open up. He’s been getting better though, and Noora appreciates the small gesture. “ _Boys_ , I hope you left me something,” Isak says, mixing English and Norwegian. Noora hears Jonas chuckle.

“We did, you little shit. Don’t worry.”

 

***

 

“I’m gonna say something that will sound really blunt, but please bear with me.” Eva seems to have reached a conclusion, and is looking at what of Noora comes out from the duvet. Noora doesn’t answer, just flickers her eyes towards Eva, waits.

“You’re special. You are.” Eva puts her hand on Noora’s hair, caresses her a bit with a tenderness that almost makes her cry. “You’re so very special, and my best friend, and I love you. But you’re still human.”

Noora pushes a bit into Eva’s hand, closes her eyes. “I know that,” she says.

“You don’t though, not really. You think that everything here it’s your fault, that you could have done something to prevent it, but… it doesn’t work like this.”

“Have you been talking to the others?”

Eva snorts. “Of course I have. Noora, you might not realise it, but you have a very tight group of friends, and they all love you and worry about you.”

Noora smiles, burrows a bit more under the duvet. “Okay.”

“Anyway, what I mean to say is that you’re 16 and you grew up in a society that romanticises men being violent and abusive. If he hits you it means he likes you, and they tell you this since kindergarten, even if you try to get educated you still have so much to unlearn, and of course, _of course_ you can still fall in those kinds of trap. Even you, Noora, you’re not immune, not a superwoman. As much as I’d like you to be so you won’t have to suffer like this.” Eva takes a deep breath and looks at Noora.

Noora wipes her eyes and sniffs a bit. “How can I accept that I’m not special though?”

“I just told you that you are, come on. What you aren’t is _immune_ to society, Nooramor.”

Noora stops and thinks for a bit. She’s not, even if she likes to believe it, even if she tricked herself into believing she was superior, both morally and socially, and could survive anything without breaking.

And for surviving, she did survive, but she wasn’t whole by any means. She was just trying to reach the pieces and mend her soul, even more than her heart. “I wish I were, though. If I were—”

“And if my granny had wheels, she would be a wheelbarrow. Get out of that place.”

Noora laughs, surprised. “Okay, no wheelbarrows, got it.”

 

***

 

Sometimes Noora goes out alone. She knows her friends worry about it, but she feels the need to do that, to lend Isak’s bike and simply go till she can’t feel her legs anymore, till she has to take the 12 back home because using the bike seems impossible.

Those trips are good. She used to do them back in Madrid, when the weather was better and the sun was shining, and Oslo is a bit worse off from that point of view, especially during that season.

Even if the city seems undergoing a curfew after a certain time—that’s okay, she needs space to think, to let herself feel without anyone seeing her. She missed doing sports, and tiring herself is somewhat cathartic for her.

It’s easier to bear the cross of her broken relationship, and to find back the pieces of herself, easier with friends. She’s still not okay, and probably never will for a long time, but maybe it’s okay, maybe she’s getting there. Maybe she can very well start hoping.

 

***

 

_You look very good today, that shirt compliments you a lot ;)_

Noora covers herself a bit self-consciously, and puts the phone away.

“Who’s at the phone?” Eva is watching her curiously. Noora shakes her head and smiles.

“Nobody.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it's ended. It was fun to do that tbh, and I'm always down for writing more of the girls in Skam, there's not enough apprecciation. Thank you for reading the fics, and thank you for commenting and giving kudos, thank you for being with me for this, in a way. If you want to find me on [tumblr](http://nooradeservedbetter.tumblr.com), my askbox or IM is always open :)


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